


Blood, Sex and Rock n' Roll

by m3aculpa



Series: Blood Music [1]
Category: Buffy the Vampire Slayer, Glee, Glee/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover
Genre: Blood Drinking, Character Death, Community: 10_hurt_comfort, Community: glee_kink_meme, Dubious Consent, M/M, Vampire Turning
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2010-08-28
Updated: 2010-08-28
Packaged: 2017-10-24 00:18:49
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: Rape/Non-Con
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,655
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/256720
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/m3aculpa/pseuds/m3aculpa
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>A stranger offers Kurt a ride when he gets stranded outside Sunnydale with a flat tire.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Blood, Sex and Rock n' Roll

**Author's Note:**

> Title: Blood, Sex and Rock n' Roll  
> Fandom: Glee/Buffy the Vampire Slayer crossover  
> Rating: NC-17  
> Characters/Pairings: Kurt, Spike, Spike/Kurt  
> Warnings: Dub-con, biting, screwy timelines; set after BtVS 3x8 "Lover's Walk" and after season 1 in Glee  
> Word count: 2657  
> Prompt: Written for [this](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/1414.html?thread=4803462#t4803462) prompt at the [**glee_kink_meme**](http://community.livejournal.com/glee_kink_meme/): _Kurt's Navigator breaks down and Spike drive by in that fantastic car he had when he first appeared on Buffy. Spike offers him a ride, intending to kill him, and drives him off to remote location. There he decides that Kurt could be put to better use._
> 
>  _Dub-con that becomes consensual. I'd rather Spike did not kill him or torture him. Biting is fine, so is turning, but not bloodplay._  
>  Summary: A stranger offers Kurt a ride when he gets stranded outside Sunnydale with a flat tire.

Somebody had slashed his spare tire. No, stop, rewind – somebody had _broken into_ his trunk and _slashed_ his spare tire. It was bewildering. It wasn’t like nobody had a clue that he would be visiting his cousins in Sunnydale over the weekend and that he would blow his tire on the way out. Damn those Neanderthals! He lived his life without bothering anyone… why couldn’t they just leave him the hell alone?  
   
It was getting dark rapidly and he stood with a car that would go nowhere. He fished out his cell-phone and tried to call his cousins. After a fourth try, he had to give up. There was no reception in this area. There were two options: stay here, wait for another car, or walking back into Sunnydale. He loved being on the Cheerios, but he detested exercise otherwise.  
   
Kurt hadn’t had time to make up his mind before a roar from behind startled him. He jumped and turned around quickly. His heart pounded in fear and he clutched his bag tighter against his chest. Did he bring his mace? He couldn’t remember if he had.  
   
A car stopped beside him. For a moment his eyes widened. It was a fantastic car. A black 1959 Desoto Sportsman in pristine condition. It itched under his fingers to get a look under the hood. It was a beauty.  
   
A whiff of cigarette smoke came from the dark-tinted window as it was scrolled down. A pale hand with black-painted nails flicked a cigarette. Kurt stared. The driver leaned out through the window and at first he saw only bleached blonde, slicked hair. Then the figure straightened and it was a gorgeous man. He had the sharpest cheekbones Kurt had over seen and a scar in his eyebrow. The man smiled at him and it seemed almost sardonic. It made the corner of his eyes crinkle fetchingly.  
   
“Having car trouble… mate?” he asked, tagging on the mate as what seemed like an afterthought.  
   
Oh, British… that did not make Kurt go a little weak in his knees. Not at all. Mercedes wouldn’t believe him if she told him he’d seen a guy like this in a shithole like Sunnydale. He couldn’t believe his eyes. The bad boy image made a shiver go down his spine.  
   
Something tugged at the back of his mind, though. A warning voice. Something telling him he was in danger. But he did what any sane twenty-first century man would do – he ignored his instincts.  
   
“Yes,” he said and flipped his hair. “I seem to have a flat.”  
   
The man studied him intently and he fought not to squirm under the piercing stare. He couldn’t see if his eyes were blue or grey. He couldn’t move a muscle when the man locked his gaze onto him.  
   
“Jump in,” the man said with a nod toward the passenger seat. “I’ll drive you back into town.”  
   
Kurt wanted to politely refuse. Even if the man had the looks of an angel, he was a stranger. His instincts screamed at him to decline. But his feet had another idea and he walked around the car. He slid into the passenger seat. The moment the door closed, the man made a sharp U turn and turned back towards Sunnydale.  
   
Music was blaring from the loudspeakers; The Sex Pistols or The Ramones – he wasn’t entirely sure, since he’d never been into punk music. Finn or Puck might now. The insides smelt of cigarette smoke and whiskey. His stomach clenched. The man didn’t seem drunk… but neither had the man who totalled his mum’s car. He’d been just drunk enough to slow down his reflexes. Kurt could never forgive him.  
   
“Don’t worry,” the man said. “’ve not been drinking. Might have spilled some a while back.”  
   
Kurt breathed out a relieved breath. He felt marginally calmer. Marginally. How could he be entirely calm when he sat next to this man? His presence was electrifying. Kurt looked at him from the corner of his eyes. A black duster, black jeans hugging muscles, red shirt showing off his chest… very Billy Idol meets vampire. Kurt flushed when the man caught him looking at him.  
   
“’m Spike,” the man smirked.  
   
Kurt levelled a ‘you-can’t-be-serious’-look at him and raised an eyebrow.  
   
“Spike’?” he said incredulously. “Do you honestly go by _Spike_?”  
   
It was slightly better than Puck. But only slightly. What was it with handsome men and stupid nicknames?  
   
“I could tell you me real name,” Spike said slyly. “But then I’d have to kill you, princess.”  
   
“My name is _Kurt_ ,” he scowled in annoyance. “Kurt Hummel. And I’m a guy, not a girl, ergo I’m no princess.”  
   
“Sorry,” the man said, “ _princess_.”  
   
Kurt huffed and closed his arms over his chest. He looked out of the window. The hour lulled him to half-asleep, despite Spike’s intoxicating presence. It took a while for him to realise that they were not heading back to Sunnydale. He was confused when they stopped outside an abandoned-looking church and turned to question Spike.  
   
And screamed.  
   
Spike’s face had visible veins and uneven bumps all over it and his eyes suddenly glowed yellow. A mad thought; Spike was in a serious need of a facial. The sharp teeth that glimmered in the dark as he smiled, made Kurt scramble for the door handle. He’d almost managed to open the door when Spike sank his teeth into his neck.  
   
Kurt felt paralysed from the pain in his neck. His body felt cold and then hot and he whimpered in fear. Small, helpless noises streamed from his mouth as he felt his life draining out of his body. He could _feel_ the blood pumping out of his veins. The pain was overwhelming. But then there were white-hot bolts of arousal shooting through his body and he gasped, falling silent. His cock was thickening and hardening, until it pressed uncomfortably at the crotch of his pants.  
   
Spike broke away from his neck. His lips were stained with blood and he stared down at Kurt. He sluggishly met Spike’s eyes. The other man looked directly into his eyes and then obscenely licked his lips clean from blood. He flicked his tongue over his fangs and Kurt shuddered. He was going to die. Spike was going to kill him. He shut his eyes and a tear escape. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die. He didn’t want to die.  
   
He shuddered when Spike’s tongue sneaked out and licked away his tears. The bloodstained breath hitting his face made horror wash over him anew.  
   
“You were just going to be a snack, princess,” the vampire said and caressed his cheek mockingly gently. “But your skin is as soft as a woman’s… and you don’t look a thing like Dru, which is a good thing, believe me.”  
   
Kurt didn’t understand. Couldn’t comprehend. Then Spike’s hand snaked down to his pants and his still achingly hard cock.  
   
“No!” he cried out and tried to escape out through the car door.  
   
He landed a kick onto Spike, who grunted and hauled him back in. He lowered the car seat and pinned Kurt to it. Kurt kept chanting ‘no’, even as Spike tore his belt right open. He thrashed in the steel-grip of the vampire and tears kept leaking out of his eyes. He sobbed when Spike ripped apart his pants instead of bothering with the button and zipper. His briefs came off next – the fabric digging into his frail hips before Spike tore them right off.  
   
“No! No! No! NO! _NO!_ ” Kurt screamed while beating at Spike’s back. His struggling was waning as his strength faded; the blood still running sluggishly from the wound in his neck. “No… nonononononononononononono…”  
   
His protests died abruptly when Spike wrapped a hand around his cock. His long fingers wrapped surely around the cock like he’d done it before. Kurt moaned and tears fell. It felt so _good_ with Spike’s fingers around his cock. The hand was strangely soft – he’d expected Spike’s hand to be rough and calloused as he spoke with the accent of somebody with a working class background.  
   
Spike’s hand was gentle when he started to pump him and more tears leaked from Kurt’s eyes. He stared up in the ceiling of the car. The fight had left him. There was no use – Spike was simply too strong. Too _inhuman_. The vampire would play with him and then kill him. He’d never see his dad again or Mercedes or _Finn_ …  
   
A shaky moan was involuntarily torn from him when Spike rubbed his thumb over the head, playing with the slit and smearing the pre-cum. The touch of another man’s hand on his cock was everything he’d imagined in the darkness of his bedroom. Except from the horrifying fact that he _didn’t_ want this. And that Spike would soon kill him.  
   
Fingers traced his bottom lip. A finger slipped inside and caressed the insides of his mouth. He tried to turn his head away, crying even harder. The finger was stubborn, rubbing against his tongue and he gagged.  
   
“I’d suggest you suck on them, princess, get ‘em wet,” Spike whispered and rubbed the head off his cock with his thumb in circular, hypnotising motions. “It is all the lube you’re getting. And trust me, blood is not a sufficient lubricant.”  
   
Spike sounded like had bitter experience with that. Kurt was paradoxically grateful that his would-be rapist allowed him that much. He started to suck on the three fingers Spike stuck into his mouth. He ran his tongue over and between them, coating them richly in saliva. When Spike slid them out of his mouth with a pop, a string of drool followed them and then broke. It covered Kurt’s chin and he wanted to wipe it off. Spike’s knees were restraining his arms, so he couldn’t.  
   
A finger pressed against his hole and he tensed. Spike rubbed his finger over the puckered skin and then slid it inside. Kurt hissed and arched away. It didn’t hurt, but it felt odd to have another man’s finger there.  
   
Spike leant forward and traced the contours of his ear. He thrust the finger in and out. His voice was like silk and lava when he whispered into Kurt’s ear:  
   
“You’ve been fingering yourself, haven’t you, _Kurt_?” he purred. “Not nearly tight enough to never have had anything up here, but too bloody tight for ever having a cock up here. Have you been a naughty, naughty princess?”  
   
A screeching sob tore from Kurt’s chest and Spike added a second finger. It hurt now and was uncomfortable. He’d only played with a finger before, this felt like too much and invasive. Spike kissed him to silence the groans of discomfort. It was a sweet, gently, bordering on chaste kiss and it confused him immensely. Spike kissed him again and again with that strangely gentle manner and it made his body boneless.  
   
He barely tensed when the third finger was added. They stroked deep inside him in rhythm with Spike’s intoxicating kisses. Then they spread and he arched into the touch. His body was heating up even more and suddenly the cold, damp traces of fear didn’t seem nearly as serious. Spike’s fingers probed and questioned until he find that _spot_ that sent flashes of light behind Kurt’s eyes. His toes curled and he arched up. Only Spike harshly squeezing the base of his cock stopped him from coming.  
   
Spike drew back and he followed. He wanted another kiss. It took the edge of the terror away. It was renewed when he heard Spike lower his zipper and felt the head of the cock on his entrance. Spike kissed him and thrust inside. Kurt tensed and grabbed Spike’s shoulders. He dug his nails into the sharp shoulder blades and tears were squeezed out of his screwed up eyes. Shit, that _hurt_.  
   
Spike kissed him. Small, chaste kisses rained down on his tensed and frowning mouth. He held still. Kurt’s muscles slowly relaxed and his grip on Spike loosened. He wasn’t pushing him away. Softly he kissed back and Spike suddenly thrust his tongue inside his mouth. He started moving. His hips rolled against Kurt’s own and Kurt spread his legs wider.  
   
Spike kissed him and suddenly he found that spot again. It had Kurt’s eyes rolling to the back off his head and his toes curling. Spike thrust harshly against him so that his entire body rocked and released Kurt’s mouth. Embarrassing moans and whimpers and pleas spilled forth. Spike obliged his pleas about ‘hard’ and ‘faster’ and ‘ _more_ ’.  
   
It was everything he’d imagined and more. And suddenly it didn’t matter that Spike was a vampire and that he hadn’t wanted it in the beginning. He just wanted more, wanted Spike closer, wanted it to last forever. He held Spike closer and rocked his body with him. His cries were rising as that spot was ruthlessly pounded on. He felt himself nearing the edge and his toes curled in anticipation.  
   
“… sweet of ass of yours is mine,” the vampire growled, his ‘game face’ on and eyes flashing yellow. “Forever. Want you to be mine forever. I’ll turn you, princess, and then I’ll have that sweet ass forever.”  
   
Kurt suddenly couldn’t find anything wrong with that idea.  
   
“Yes, yes, yesyesyesyes,” he sobbed.  
   
Spike bit down on his neck and started draining him. He came so hard that the stars came crashing down on the roof of the car and the world stopped turning.  
   
**********  
   
All the things wiggling through the earth grossed him out. And he could feel them, like tiny vibrations against his skin as he rose through the earth. The coffin had been surprisingly easy to smash through. He broke through the earth with an exhilarated laugh, because he knew that Spike was there. There waiting for him.  
   
Spike took a last drag of the cigarette, before throwing it away. He grabbed Kurt around his waist and mashed his mouth against his. Their teeth clanked together, before they were kissing harshly. Kurt melded his body tightly against Spike’s and kissed back ferociously. He tugged on Spike’s bottom lip and split it open.  
   
The other man shoved him away.  
   
“Ow! Bloody hell!” he snarled. “What the fuck was the about, princess?”  
   
Kurt sniffed and stuck his nose into the air. “You ruined my favourite pair of Armani pants.”  
   
He lost interest in Spike’s cursing – it wasn’t nice to call him a mad bint; honestly, Spike, manners. Instead he was fascinated with this new world unravelling before his eyes. For his heightened senses it was clear as day in the graveyard. He could see every single grass straw and hear the sounds of birds rustling in the trees. The night air felt like a caress against his skin. He examined the fabric of the suit they had buried him in. Armani. Good, just like he had wanted.  
   
If he’d been in possession of his soul, he’d been touched that his dad had buried him next to his mother. But now he wasn’t. Barely even noticed.  
   
He kissed Spike again and linked his arm through Spike’s arm. Resting his head against Spike’s chest, he tilted back until he looked up into those grey eyes. Spike looked back at him with a devilish smirk. He shivered and ground his body into Spike’s just to tease. Then he twirled away, calling out back to Spike:  
   
“I’m hungry!” he pouted. “I want a snack.”  
   
Hm, Finn or Puck? Puck or Finn? What a decision! Maybe they could keep them as pets? Take a little drink now and then… and do other stuff to them. He wanted to sink his teeth into them… and sink other things into them as well. He giggled. It wasn’t like they’d dare refuse him now…  
   
But first, he really should make a visit to Rachel and show all that damn argyle down her throat…


End file.
